Marrying a Monster

by Mel Dunay

Neither Rina nor Vipin could say anything to change his mind, and before long, the two humans rode out of town on the borrowed motorcycle, while the Gnosha scrambled up straight up the rock face of the mountain like the insect he resembled.

  Rina didn't bother with the grab bars this time, she just wrapped her arms around Vipin's waist. One hand wandered up to his chest as they drove, and he clasped one of his own hands around hers, as though he liked the touch of her.

  We killed the Mountain King’s Sister, Rina thought. He killed the Mountain King’s Sister, and I helped. I still can’t believe it.

  About an hour outside of Thundermouth, she told Vipin to stop.

  “What’s the matter?” He asked.

  “The wounds the Oldblood gave you may have healed themselves, but your shirt is still all bloody and torn.” She said.

  “Oh,” He said. “I was going to claim that I had to swap my good shirt for some damaged rags in exchange for lodging at one of the places we stopped. They would surely believe things like that happen in Goatsfart, or Stayout.”

  Rina sighed. “Why make things complicated?” She asked. “I’m pretty sure I have a t-shirt in here that will fit you.”

  It was Vipin’s turn to sigh. “I really don’t want to bare my midriff thanks.”

  “Wimp.” Rina smirked. She managed to find a hot pink, tunic-length t-shirt in her bag. “Try this,” She said, and handed it to him.

  He looked at her suspiciously. “I would appreciate it if you would turn around,” He said.

  She turned to watch the wind ruffling the carpets of blue flowers on the lower slopes, and did her best to enjoy the view she was given rather than the view she was denied.

  Finally Vipin asked: “What do you think?”

  And she turned around and surveyed him with a critical eye. As she had predicted, the t-shirt was long enough to reach his waist, but the short sleeves exposed an impressive set of biceps, and it looked like his chest and shoulders would tear through the shirt at any moment.

  “I don’t mind you looking at me like that,” Vipin said mildly. “But it does make me think I’m not appropriately dressed.”

  “I’m not sure what my parents are going to think at first, but they should behave themselves after I explain that you lost all your luggage and I agreed to lend you this t-shirt that they will unfortunately recognize. And once we get you settled, we can find you something else to wear.”

  “Which means I’m not appropriately dressed,” he sighed.

  “This is easier to explain than a bloodied dress shirt on a man who doesn’t have a scratch on him. And you are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He blushed at that. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  She giggled. “That doesn’t exactly make you a smooth operator, but I like that about you.”

  He blushed even harder, and cleared his throat before changing the subject.

  “Will it be hard for you to tell your parents that you’re not going through with the ritual?” Vipin asked.

  “What makes you think that I’m not?” Rina said. “I’ve seen the kind of creature they would be given to. I’ve even fought that kind of creature. Sort of.”

  “Most people wouldn’t even have done that,” Vipin said.

  “I have a lot more faith in you putting the thing down than I used to, but those are reasons for me to go ahead, not to back down. Up here on the mountain, I’m expected to be the big sister to everyone younger than you-I can’t let those kids go into a danger I might be able to help protect them from.”

  She paused. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

  The lopsided grin climbed even further up his face. “Because, Miss Rina, you are one in a thousand.”

  He helped her repack her bag, and discreetly pitched his old shirt over the edge onto the lower slopes. And then they were off.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Thundermouth, like Mount Snarl itself, takes its name from the weird sound the wind makes when it blows through the caves and rocks at the summit. The second largest town, and second most developed septic system on the mountain, Thundermouth includes beekeepers, goatherds, dairymen, and farmers.

  The town is noted for its mead (an unusual form of alcohol in the Blue Smoke Mountains), its distinctive blue cheeses and textiles made of soft, silky wool. It has the oldest school on the mountain, and an impressive shrine to the mountain’s guardian spirit.”

  (Excerpt from The Tourist’s Guide to The Blue Smoke Mountains.)

  It was late morning by the time they reached Thundermouth. Rina’s hometown was both the remotest on the mountain and one of the largest.

  Even the top of Mount Snarl had a mild enough climate to grow barley in, and the Thundermouthers had one of the best breeds of goat on the mountains, with silky wool and rich milk, and good weavers and cheesemakers to make the best of both. They even had beekeepers.

  Rina and Vipin had passed the remains of a small avalanche on their way, and it looked like the falling rocks had taken out the powerlines.

  Even so, the town was brightly decorated, with blankets woven in bright patterns draped over the plain gray walls of the houses, and people laughing and chattering.

  A teenage boy hailed them, calling Rina by name. He turned out to be the son of one of Rina’s parents’ friends. He’d been a small boy when Rina saw him last-she hadn’t recognized him at first.

  “Do you know if my parents are at home?” She asked. “My cell phone’s not working.”

  “Yeah, they should be home,” The boy told her. “And nobody’s had signal for the past week or so. Everybody jokes about it being the Mountain King’s doing, but most likely one of the towers in the valley are down again.”

  Rina managed not to wince at the reference to the Mountain King, but her hold on Vipin’s waist tightened.

  “I don’t mind that at all,” He said quietly, “But you might get gossiped about if you keep doing that.”

  “Right now I can’t say that I care very much,” She told him.

  And held him all the tighter. It did get her stared at, but in a friendly way. She knew most of her parents’ friends felt like she was an old maid, and wondered what was wrong with her.

  A handsome, physically imposing man, with about two days’ worth of stubble, driving her around on a motorcycle was going to do wonders for her street cred.Rina and Vipin had passed the remains of a small avalanche on their way, and it looked like the falling rocks had taken out the powerlines.

  Even so, the town was brightly decorated, with blankets woven in bright patterns draped over the plain gray walls of the houses, and people laughing and chattering.

  A teenage boy hailed them, calling Rina by name. He turned out to be the son of one of Rina’s parents’ friends. He’d been a small boy when Rina saw him last-she hadn’t recognized him at first.

  “Do you know if my parents are at home?” She asked. “My cell phone’s not working.”

  “Yeah, they should be home,” The boy told her. “And nobody’s had signal for the past week or so. Everybody jokes about it being the Mountain King’s doing, but most likely one of the towers in the valley are down again.”

  Rina managed not to wince at the reference to the Mountain King, but her hold on Vipin’s waist tightened.

  “I don’t mind that at all,” He said quietly, “But you might get gossiped about if you keep doing that.”

  “Right now I can’t say that I care very much,” She told him.

  And held him all the tighter. It did get her stared at, but in a friendly way. She knew most of her parents’ friends felt like she was an old maid, and wondered what was wrong with her.

  A handsome, physically imposing man, with about two days’ worth of stubble, driving her around on a motorcycle was going to do wonders for her street cred.

  Her parents were outside their front door, saying goodbye to a neighbor who’d probably dropped in to borrow a cup of something or other, when Rina and Vipin pulled up. Paa stare
d at the two of them as if his eyes were about ready to pop out of his head.

  Maa smiled widely at Rina herself, then favored Vipin with a smaller smile and a shrewd, assessing look. Rina interrupted their thought processes by jumping off the motorbike and going to hug them both.

  “We heard about the bus breaking down, from Amita,” Maa said. “We were so worried when we heard that she had left you behind to find your own way out of Goatsfart. And the phones weren’t working.”

  “I know. The trip was way more eventful than I would have liked,” Rina admitted. “But Vipin here-he’s an anthropologist-was very helpful.”

  Vipin moved forward shyly. “It was no trouble at all,” He said. “Your daughter’s a tough woman who doesn’t give up easily.”

  Paa snorted. “If she did give up easily, I would have been subsidizing that shop of hers for only two years, instead of nine. Come inside, both of you.”

  Rina gave her parents a comparatively full version of what they had been through, leaving out the gory details in their encounters with Jabar and Bhana. She also did not mention that Vipin was an Oldblood, although she did cover him being a government agent whose job it was to look into these matters.

  Maa and Paa both took the parts of her story that involved superhuman monsters in stride, as if her word was Paa’s eyes widened at the parts that involved her and Vipin spending the night in goatsheds and barns, and he tried to scold her about Jabar, but stopped himself and said with a sigh: “You’re a grown woman, you have to make your own judgment calls about these things.”

  He turned his attention to Vipin. “You sir-you’re a grown man, eight or nine years older than my daughter by the look of you. What are your intentions towards her?”

  Vipin had seemed tired and withdrawn all through the conversation with her parents, or perhaps shy, but this line of questioning seemed to startle him.

  “When I first met her, she was just someone on a bus who needed help,” He said. “Over the past few days we have become friends. She is a lovely and intelligent woman, and I would not mind seeing more of her, if she will let me.”

  He ducked his head and blushed.

  “Hard to believe this meek fellow killed an Old One was just a little help from my daughter,” Paa said dryly. “Have you ever been in a relationship before? Have you ever been married?”

  “It was a relationship that did not get as far as marriage,” Vipin said, staring at the floor.

  Rina thought that it cost him something to stay calm when talking about this.

  “She came from a priestly family in the north, and her parents did not feel that my family was quite...elevated enough.”

  “You still have a priest caste up there?” Maa asked with interest.

  “Down here, the Island City priests abolished their own caste two or three hundred years ago,” Paa added. “Said they would take anyone with talent and interest, and most of the other local priesthoods followed their lead.”

  “Many of us in the north respect the Island City priesthood, but they do not have as much influence up there as they do down here,” Vipin said.

  “What are your family then?” Paa asked briskly. “You said you belong to the Rijal family-are you descended from that military man who shot someone roundabout the time of Independence?”

  “He was acquitted, and yes, we are,” Vipin said gruffly. “My parents are deceased, and my brother is a security consultant. He mustered out of the Army about six months ago.”

  According to Vipin, his mother had been a lay member of a religious order in the south, not bound to celibacy. After her marriage to Vipin’s father, a businessman from the north, she had become a college professor specializing in the literature and languages of Ancient Jaiya.

  “Let me guess, your mother got caught in a debate about the Scriptures with the priests of your girlfriend’s sect,” Paa said.

  “Pretty much,” Vipin allowed, “Although it was not the only thing. Even if she hadn’t been competing with them, so to speak, I don’t think the would have taken me.”

  “Look, it’s fascinating that you want to play matchmaker, Paa, and you’ve gotten way more information out of him about himself than I would have thought you could, but what about the Mountain King. How do we handle that?”

  “Huh?” Paa’s eyes darted back and forth. “It’s Mr. Government Agent’s job to handle that. How is it our problem?”

  “Sir, I do plan to scout the area and see if I can find the Mountain King’s lair,” Vipin said. “And perhaps destroy it there. But if that fails, I will have to set myself up as one of the bodyguards to the brides, and wait for the Mountain King to come to them.”

  Paa’s response to that was immediate. “Rina, I’m pulling you out of the ritual.”

  “But what about the tithing?” Rina asked. “You two said it was getting too much for you.”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  They argued back and forth about that, until Rina said: “Look, I’m a grown woman and I’m willing to be a decoy. I just wish there was some way of letting the other brides know about the danger, and let them decide whether or not they wanted to be a part of ritual.”

  The fact that this whole ritual was in praise of a monstrous thing that rose up and killed for fun and gave nothing in return, even the disturbingly competent law enforcement skills of the vampiric Old One in Vipin’s story, also stuck in her craw. But she did not think they could stop people from doing it altogether, unless they saw what the Mountain King really was.

  Paa sighed. “When have I ever been able to stop you from doing what you wanted?”

  His face was drawn with fear for a moment, then it hardened as his attention shifted to Vipin.

  “You, sir. If this thing harms one hair on my daughter’s head, you will pay for it.”

  Rina refrained from rolling her eyes. Paa’s bark was worse than his bite, and although he was spry for his age, there was no way he could even put a dent in someone who was capable of what she’d seen Vipin do that night in Stayout.

  “If I let that happen to Rina, I would deserve the consequences,” Vipin said quietly. “But sir, what do you think? Should we tell the council? Should we tell the brides?”

  “You won’t get far with the council,” Paa said. “The only one who might listen to you is Amita’s father, but Amita has decided she doesn’t like you for some reason.”

  “That would be because I kept telling her she was an idiot, and Vipin made it clear that he wasn’t comfortable with her manhandling him,” Rina said dryly.

  “Rina dear, mind your language,” Maa scolded.

  Paa stared at Rina in shock for a moment, then said. “That was an image I did not need running through my head.”

  “I’d be more sympathetic if I hadn’t had to listen to Amita talking to her boyfriend on the phone,” Rina retorted.

  “Her little talks put way too many images in my head, and there’s not enough beer, kefir, or ergot on the mountain to erase them. But since the man on the other end of those talks is the Minister of Agriculture, I can’t do anything about it.”

  Maa’s eyes widened but Paa sighed. “I can believe that. Just don’t bring it up in front of anyone else.”

  “So, could I approach the girls and their families one on one, and try to explain the situation to them?” Rina asked.

  “I would think you’d want to ease them gently into the monster,” Maa said.

  “We could maybe claim that Vipin is looking for a man-eating mountain panther or something, but leave in the government agent part, and the part about it being likely to attack the brides in their tents.”

  “Word getting out that there’s a government agent in town doing his thing without so much as a by-your-leave from the council is asking for all kinds of problems,” Paa said.

  “Surely the police here...” Vipin began.

  “The local constable doesn’t so much as blow his nose without the council saying so, and he’s not going to like the business w
ith the Gnosha at all.”

  “So where does that leave us?” Rina asked.

  “The boldest thing to do might be to go directly to Amita’s father. With her, uh, ties to the government, he wouldn’t think it strange that you would approach him, and he’s better equipped to convince the council than we are.”

  “You just said that he would be prejudiced by what Amita’s said about us,” Rina protested.

  “Yes, well, it only just occurred to me that he might be more okay with Vipin here if you bring up the whole secret government agent thing,” Paa pointed out.

  “I don’t follow you, sir,” Vipin said.

  “It would give him a sense of importance that someone like that would come to him for help. It also gives Amita a chance to save face by imagining Vipin was ignoring her out of a sense of duty, and respects her too much to trifle with her feelings.”

  Paa paused, and his bug-eyes seemed to hardened in a spasm of parental paranoia. “At least, I hope he respects women enough not to trifle with their feelings.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not a two-fisted detective out of a pulp novel,” Vipin said wearily.

  Rina wondered how often he had been mistrusted by people he was trying to help. That story about the vampiric Oldblood hinted that it might be pretty often.

  “You’re not?” Paa stared at him skeptically, and Rina knew instinctively that he was focusing on those powerful arms and shoulders, although not for the reason, she would have. “You certainly look the part.”

  “It is necessary to stay in shape in my line of work,” Vipin said. “Because I where I go and what I do, I may have to defend myself, or hire on as a farmhand in order to get to the truth.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ coming on,” Maa said.

  “...But ultimately I’m a scholar who happens to know how to hunt and kill Oldbloods. I don’t like to party in the evening or hit up the bars, and I rarely get propositioned by strange women. I don’t like short-term relationships, and I don’t have a job that lends itself to long-term relationships, as a rule.”

  “And is my daughter an exception to that rule?”

  “Paa! Stop that!” Rina snapped. “We addressed that once already. Stop picking at it.”